Renovanem
by ameliajokermoriarty
Summary: Sequel to Sherlock: Carpe Diem. 3 years after the Fall and Sherlock Holmes, Jim Moriarty and Jamie Kent are all back from the dead. A new fame is beginning and the stakes are higher this time. Jim has already burnt the heart out of Sherlock, so what does he plan to do now? And how will Sherlock survive? New game. New Rules. A new problem.
1. Back from Death

**Renovanem**

Sherlock Holmes sat down in the long abandoned chair of 221B Baker Street. Though abandoned, Sherlock remembered the feel of it, the texture of it and it felt like home to him. Which was where he was. Home. Back in 221B. He was tapping against his knee, getting lost in the beat and the sound of his fingers hitting his knee cap repeatedly and he allowed his eyes to fall shut, losing himself in his own mind. Thousands of scenarios whirled through his head as he allowed his mind to take over every sense and a smile to fall upon his face. He was happy. He was content. And why? Because he was alive. Jim Moriarty was alive. Sherlock would have danced with joy from the pure relief of this information falling from the lips of one Jamie Kent, the girl he had thought was controlling Moriarty's criminal web for the past three years since the both of them had faked their death on the roof of St. Bartholowmew's hospital. But no. No. She hadn't been. She had just been a front for the man. Spinning a whole new web of deceit and lies to form an all new came with an all new motive. Sherlock could not have been happier. Yet he was forced to hide his happiness. His contentment. As of right now, Dr. John Watson was losing his mind, as was Dynah Parker and Tessa Daniels. All could not believe that the mad man was still alive. That Jamie had hidden it all this time. However it hadn't been hard for her to hide it. According to the world, she had been dead to the world since she was 16 years old. A girl who had fooled everyone into believing that she had died, had been murdered, all in the pursuit of The Final Problem. Oh no. She had played a much bigger role than that. A much more important role and Sherlock had to resist the urge to laugh from the pure ecstasy that travelled through his veins at the thought of all of this.

Suddenly the world came spinning back and he opened his eyes. He heard John's shouts and Dynah's confused rambling. He could hear Tessa mumbling to herself, trying to come up with anyway to explain all that was happening to herself. It was John's last comment that had drawn him out of his thoughts.

"Why wouldn't you tell us that he was alive, Jamie? The man tried to kill us! He tried to kill you!" John shouted.

The girl simply smirked, looking down at her phone for a moment, before looking back up at John. "You act as though I had much of a choice, Uncle John. Jim Moriarty isn't a man who likes to have his games ruined so easily. Besides, I was interested in his mind. For three years I was up close and able to see and analyze the mind of a criminal psychopath when it was in its element. At work. He's more brilliant than we realized. Even more brilliant than Sherlock realized." Jamie laughed.

"The game." Sherlock said, saying his first words since Jamie's confession. "What's the game?"

"The game?" Jamie asked.

"The new game. What does he have planned?" Sherlock asked.

"I'm meant to know, Sherlock? Now why would he tell me what the game was? I'm not meant to know. I'm only meant to be a part of it. We're all chess pieces. I've only been informed up to a certain point. Now, I'm done. I had three years of knowledge. That is all." Jamie sighed.

"He has to be after something..." John trailed off.

"He's after Sherlock. He's always after Sherlock." Tessa mumbled, pacing back and forth.

"Not to kill him. He's already done that...sort of..." Dynah said, running a hand through her long hair.

"It's not going to be this simple. Not this time." Sherlock mumbled, purching his hands together and resting them against his lips.

"It was simple the last time?" John asked, glaring at Sherlock.

"Not necessarily, but Jamie and I figured out what he was planning in the end, didn't we?" Sherlock asked, raising an eyebrow at John.

"You did. Then you left us in the dark for three years." John said.

"It was necessary and you know it." Sherlock countered.

"It wasn't. We could have helped."

"Dying wouldn't have helped."

"Bickering isn't going to get you any further. For now, I suggest, you reform your lives back to how they used to be before the fall. I suggest we all reform our lives. It will be like being born again. Rebirth." Jamie suggested.

"You act as though it is so easy." Tessa responded.

"It will have to be." Jamie said, raising her voice slightly.

Tessa said nothing, chosing to remain silent, while Dynah simply turned away, heading upstairs. Tessa moved over to her own violin, picking it up and beginning to play it rather violently, letting out her obvious pent up frustration and John simply left the flat. Sherlock allowed his eyes to fall shut. Suddenly the smell of cigarette smoke filled the room and he opened his eyes to see Jamie inhaling the smoke of a cigaretter. Odd.

"You don't smoke." Sherlock stated.

Jamie coughed, pushing the smoke away from her face. "That is disgusting. I have no idea how you and Jim smoke these." she said, throwing the cigarette onto the floor and crushing it under her heel.

"John isn't going to appreciate the stain that is going to leave in the wood." Sherlock pointed out.

"He's not here and since when do you care?" Jamie asked.

"I don't."

"Then stop acting like it."

"I'm not acting like anything." Sherlock defended.

"You're pretending, Sherlock. Trying to gain some kind of leverage, as if it is going to bring anyone in this flat closer. Make everything like it used to be. It will never be the same. Jim Moriarty, Sherlock Holmes, and Jamie Kent are still alive, and for three years the world assumed them dead. Things can't be the same. You can only hope that this rebirth Jamie suggested goes according to plan." Tessa said, moving to go upstairs to join Dynah.

"They don't hate you. They're just rather alarmed by all of this. Even if they knew that we were faking, we are asking them to adjust to a new lifestyle that they abandoned." Jamie stated.

"They're more shocked by your confession, Jamie." Sherlock responded.

"Possibly." she smirked.

"Do you have any plans to see him soon?" Sherlock asked.

"No. Why? Would you want to join me if I did? I wouldn't want to be a third wheel on your date." Jamie laughed.

"It wouldn't be a date. I don't date." Sherlock responded.

"Closest thing to a date you would get." Jamie grinned.

"You haven't changed much."

"Neither have you."

Suddenly Sherlock's phone, rather his new phone that only Jamie had the number to lit up, drawing his and Jamie's attention. He looked at her curiously, as he reached over for it, opening it up to reveal the message.

Ready for a new game, Pretty Holmes? I've been waiting so long, darling. I've grown bored. Come and play with me, Sherly. JM xx

"You gave Jim my number." Sherlock stated.

"He asked for it." Jamie said, shrugging her shoulders.

Sherlock turned his attention back from Jamie to the phone, reading over the text a few more times before finally deciding that he should reply. He knew he would have to tone down the level of excitement coursing through him. Jim would use it against him.

You will have to coerce me. Perhaps I have more important things to do than play the same old game. SH

Do you really think I would repeat myself? Do you think so little of me? Perhaps I'll have to teach you a lesson. Would you be interested in that, Sher-Lock? JM xx

I could be persuaded. SH

"You say that it's not a date? Only a person who is flirting has that much interest in texting." Jamie laughed.

"I don't flirt." Sherlock said.

"Fine. Intellectual foreplay." Jamie said, before walking over to the coat rack, slipping on her coat. "I'm going to go find Uncle John. He's most likely confronting Molly at the moment. Poor woman is probably terrified half to death that he knows. We should have given her some forwarning."

"I'm sure she'll be fine. She can handle herself." Sherlock stated.

"I'm sure she can. But I'm still going to check on her." Jamie said, slipping out of the flat.

Sherlock waited a few moment after Jamie left before he stood up himself, slipping on his coat and scarf, before walking out of the flat and onto the streets of London. He pulled out his phone once more and began to type.

I'm not dead. SH

Is this meant to bea joke? GL

Honestly, Lestrade don't be so obtuse. That's Anderson's job. SH

Sherlock Holmes is dead. GL

Then how am I speaking to you? SH

Fine. Come to the Yard and prove your Sherlock Holmes. Ought to be a laugh. GL

At least use proper grammar. You're meant to be intelligent. You could at least act like it. SH

Sherlock slipped his phone back into his pocket and he hailed down a cab to take him to Scotland Yard. Once he arrived, he let a smirk grace his face as he stepped inside, walking inside with all of the confidence the world held. All eyes were on him and he could swear that all jaws dropped at the sight of him and his smirk grew even bigger. He walked up to Lestrade's office, nobody stopping him in the process and he opened the door widely. Anderson and Donovan are standing in the room, next to Lestrade's desk where the Detective Inspector is sitting and he watches as they all look up at him. Anderson drops the coffee he is holding in his hand and Sally drops the files she is grasping. Lestrade's mouth simply hangs open in shock. Sherlock looks over them all quickly and his smirk has turned into a full on grin.

"Still scrubbing Anderson's floorboards are we, Sergent Donovan?" Sherlock chuckles.

"S-Sherlock?" Lestrade asks, completely shocked.

"Hello, Detective Inspector. I'm hoping you have cases for me. I'm dreadfully bored." Sherlock said, rocking back on his heels.

"You're dead." Anderson stated.

"Clearly I'm not, Anderson. Are you truly still that much of an idiot? Though I suppose some things never change." Sherlock laughed. "Now, cases?"

"How did you survive? You jumped off the top of the bloody hospital?" Lestrade shouted, standing up and walking over to him.

"Oh, must we really linger on this topic? Yes I'm alive. I knew I was going to die and that I was going to have to jump so I planned ahead of time, making sure I didn't. I won't go into detail, not wanting to make your minds explode from how much confusion will be coursing through them. All you need to know is that I'm alive and that I'm not a fake, clearly seeing as I am alive now and no ordinary human being could do that. Jim Moriarty planned it all out and thank you for making sure his plan suceeded. Sergent Donovan, you truly need to learn how not to allow other's ideas to seep into your oh so susceptable mind. It makes you look more idiotic than usual. Now, as I was saying, cases?"

"Christ, it is you..." Lestrade mumbled.

"Are we still on this?" Sherlock asked, finding this visit to become rather tedious.

"You act as though this is something that happens everyday, Sherlock! People don't come back from the dead!" Lestrade said.

"Really? I've known 2 others from myself who have done it. One of them has done it twice now." Sherlock stated.

"Like who, Sherlock?" Lestrade asked, rubbing his forehead in frustration.

"Jim Moriarty and Jamie Kent." Sherlock stated.

"Jamie Kent is alive?" Donovan asked.

"I just stated such."

"Bloody hell..." Lestrade mumbled.

"Cases? I'm still waiting." Sherlock said.

"We don't have any. Things have been surprisingly calm."

"Dull. Let me know if something comes up." Sherlock said, turning around to leave the room.

"You really haven't changed, have you?" Lestrade asked.

Sherlock smirked and turned around. "Why would I change?"

He then turned and left the room, walking out of Scotland Yard entirely and making his way back onto the street and hailing down another cab to take him back to 221B. He heard his phone go off once more and he pulled it out, checking the message.

The Yard is so dull, aren't they? Don't worry, honey. I'll have something prepared for you shortly. JM xx

Sherlock smirked and slid the phone back into his pocket. It was night now and when Sherlock returned to 221B, he quickly went into his room, lying down in his bed and allowing his eyes to fall shut. However, before he fell asleep, he picked up his phone once more, to type his last message of the day.

I sincerely hope you keep that promise. I'll be waiting, Jim. SH


	2. The Tower

Sherlock didn't sleep much. When he did, however, his would never remember if he had dreamt or not. He sometimes wished he could recall his dreams. After all, dreams gave insight to the inner workings of the subconscious and Sherlock would love to see what images his mind was conjuring. He couldn't changed the way his mind worked, however, it seemed today he was getting brief glimpses of events he did not remember participating in. Perhaps it was fragments of a dream, but couldn't be too sure. It was an odd feeling. Waking up at Baker Street. He was so used to waking up in random hotel rooms by this point that going back to the singular room of 221B Baker Street was going to take some adjusting. Jamie seemed the have settled back in quite nicely, though Tessa and Dynah were still rather distant from her. Most likely due to the fact that while they had helped her throughout the course of the past three years, she had been lying to them about Jim Moriarty. Sherlock's relationship with John was strenuous now. The man was positively livid with all the lies that had been told over the course of the past few years. Sherlock didn't understand his upset, however, Tessa decided it was necessary to explain it to him. Apparently deceit was extremely harmful to friendships, even if the lies had good intentions. There were still no cases for Sherlock, which was making him insane. Nothing could occupy him. Nothing at all. Everyone else seemed to be enjoying their time. Tessa, Dynah, and Jamie were all attending school. Tessa was studying toxicology, Dynah was studying criminology and Jamie was studying psychology. It kept them busy most of the time and that meant that Sherlock spent most of his days at 221B alone. It was a cold day in the middle of February. Rather cold for London and Sherlock couldn't take it anymore. He heard his phone go off and he scrambled over to it, hoping that it was Lestrade with a case.  
Growing impatient, Sherly? JM xx  
It's been over a month since I came back to Baker Street. You promised to have something set up for. Yet you don't. SH  
Patience is a virtue, Sherly. I thought a man on the side of the angels would know that. JM xx  
I told you that I'm not an angel though. SH  
Oh I know, Sherlock. JM xx  
How would you know? SH  
I'm always watching, honey. JM xx  
Set up another camera in my flat? SH  
Perhaps. Can you find it? JM xx  
I'm sure there is more than one. SH  
Wrong! Only one. Where, oh where, could it be? JM xx  
When were you here? SH  
I haven't been here since before we died. JM xx  
Jamie, I assume. SH  
I think we should discuss this personally. Don't you? JM xx  
Where? SH  
Tower of London. JM xx  
Sherlock smirked and he stood up and walked into his room. He tried on various outfits, rummaging through his closet, before he settle on his red dress shirt, along with wearing his black suit jacket over top. He smirked as he left his flat and hailed down a cab to take him to the Tower. He paid the cabbie once they arrived and stepped out of the cab. He paid for his ticket to gain entry into the Tower. He walked around slowly, not really going anywhere. A few people looked at him, probably taking notice of who he was, but that was hardly important now. He mind was only focused on Jim. He didn't know where the man was, but he was somewhere here and that thought thrilled him. He heard his phone go off and he opened up the message. An image appeared on his phone and he smirked, before putting his phone away. He walked over to the White Tower, the center tower within the Tower of London. He walked up the stairs, only halfway, before he turned to face the wall that had a section missing out of it. A man, with dark slick black hair, wearing a black coat, stared at it as he moved to look, a smile spreading across his face.  
"The skeletons of two boys were discovered here. A ten-year old and a twelve-year old. Rumoured to have been killed by their uncle, Richarch III." Jim stated. "Ordinary people fighting over a crown. How dull."  
"Yet you fought me for a crown once upon a time." Sherlock stated.  
"Oh, but our crown was much more important than the crown of England." Jim smirked.  
"I suppose you intend to fight me for another crown."  
"Oh no. I have much better things planned for you, Sherlock Holmes." Jim laughed coldly.  
"Do you? I'm intrigued."  
"That's the plan, darling."  
"Your fondness for pet names hasn't diminished since you died." Sherlock pointed out.  
"Why would it?" Jim smirked. "Are you ready for this new game, Sherlock? I really hope you are. I'm not going to play fair this time."  
"You played fair last time?"  
"Surprisingly, I did. Well, what could be considered fair for a man like me."  
"Did you ever believe I was dead?" Sherlock asked.  
"Not for an instant." Jim smirked. "What about me? Did you really think I had shot myself?"  
"Of course not." Sherlock lied.  
"Oh!" Jim said, turning to face Sherlock fully for the first time since they had met together, a large grin spreading across his face. "Did little Sherly miss me? Did you mourn me?"  
"Don't flatter yourself, Jim."  
"I will, darling. Especially when I know that I am right. Besides, Jamie told me about your compositions. You should play them for me sometime." Jim smirked.  
"They were only meant to fall on deaf ears." Sherlock answered.  
Sherlock turned away from the man and continued to look back at the wall, where the two young boys' bodies had been found. He heard Jim let out an exasperated sigh and he heard him as he clicked through his phone.  
"It seems I must leave you now, darling. I know," Jim said, frowning. "Parting is such sweet sorrow. I'll be in touch."  
Sherlock watched as Jim Moriarty left, but Sherlock himself didn't move a fraction. He continued to stare at the wall ahead of him, before a large smile spread across his face. This was perfect. Sherlock spun in place, letting out a heavy sigh of relief and looking up at the sky, before he turned back around and skipped down the steps, heading back home to 221B Baker Street. He settled into his chair as soon as he made it home, a smile of contentment on his face. He heard footsteps on the floor above and he began to tap his fingers against the armrests of his chair, the rhythm to Calvaleria Rusticana. The footsteps began to move towards the stairs and he listened to the sounds of the shoes on the stairs. Heels. Approximately 3 inches high. Jamie. The girl came downstairs quickly, looking at Sherlock with her eyebrow arched before she laughed.  
"How was your date?" Jamie asked.  
"I told you I don't date." Sherlock responded.  
"Fine. How's Jim? Oh and don't try to deny that you saw him. I can see the fibres of his jacket on your coat." Jamie said, pointing over to the coat on the coatrack.  
"He's well. Rather excitable." Sherlock smirked.  
"John isn't going to be pleased." Jamie said.  
"John wouldn't be pleased with me no matter what I did. I hardly think I should care." Sherlock mumbled. "You're still dressing in a manner that mimics Moriarty."  
"Indeed. I rather like his sense of fashion. It's becoming. Besides, I'm not going to revert back to my old style of dress. I'm 19-years of age and I don't think my professors would take me very seriously if I dressed up in my skeleton dress from when I was 16." Jamie smirked.  
Sherlock laughed slightly. "Indeed, I can see where this style of dress would be preferable to the other option."  
Jamie grinned. "I suggest you go and talk to Tessa and Dynah. I think they have something you'll want."  
Sherlock simply nodded his head and he stood up from his chair, making his way upstairs. Sherlock rarely travelled up here and for some reason, he never questioned how the three girls, along with John and Mrs. Hudson had been able to live up here all at once. After all, it was only made up of two rooms about the size of the sitting room. Sherlock walked up and looked around, but he only saw Mrs. Hudson's and John's room. He raised an eyebrow and turned to look over at another set of stairs. He walked up them slowly and when he made his way to the third floor of the flat that he had yet to witness, he smirked as he realized that this was where they had been staying for over 4 years. There were two rooms on this top floor, when Sherlock peered into one, it was easy to see that it was Jamie's. It was well organized, with a bookshelf in the corner of the room, each book placed in alphabetical order. Next to the desk sat a filing drawer, which Sherlock was sure was organized as well. The wallpaper was black, no patterns on it. Just a solid colour. There wasn't much colour in the room, except for a few aspects of orange. Some comics books were resting on her nightstand, along with a text-book on abnormal psychology. Sherlock left the room quickly and moved into Tessa and Dynah's room. It was odd. The two sides of the room looked rather different. Tessa's side was crisp and the walls were white, with a few frames on the wall, mostly of maps. There was one map on the wall with several strings attached to pins, pinpointing several locations. Again, she had her own separate bookshelf and it contained much classical literature, along with several notes crammed into the spaces. On her bed, rested an open copy of Grimm's Fairytales, which Sherlock couldn't help but to look smirk at. Dynah's side of the room was simple. Underneath her bed, was a single wooden box that contained a pistol. A gift. The bookshelf was rather unorganized, books in any random order. Her side of the room was blue and white, simple enough. The two girls sat in the middle of the room, folder and files surrounding them as they looked up at him, both having a smile on their faces.  
"Jamie said you had something for me." Sherlock said, leaning against the frame of the door.  
Tessa and Dynah turned to look at each other with a smirk on their faces. They closed all the files and folders, before stacking them into a pile. Tessa stood up, holding them all in her hands, before adding them to Sherlock, who raised an eyebrow at her.  
"What is this?" Sherlock asked.  
"Lestrade came by." Dynah grinned.  
"You have your first case. Seems as though Moriarty has finally pulled through." Tessa smirked.  
Sherlock looked through the files and a grin spread across his own face. "Indeed."


End file.
